From Rachel Toor
In most gatherings for aspiring presidents, a selection of current and formers tell their origin stories.
These are useful and inspiring and show there are many paths to successful presidencies. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have “the toughest job in the nation” presidencies thrust upon them. On panels, it’s always fascinating to hear people describe different ways they got what others in the room want; there’s no single route. Diversity Variety is the spice.
Below, I asked some current leaders to weigh in on their journeys. But I’m also going to share with you something I’ve been mulling over.
Lately, I’ve been getting requests from presidents to edit stuff for them, which I’m happy to do if I have time and think I can help. What’s surprised me is when presidents show me their job application materials. You’d think people with impressive CVs wouldn’t need anything but fine-tuning.
Turns out, their letters are often, in my humble opinion, crapola. Partly, I think this is because when you’ve reached a certain level of success, people stop giving substantive feedback, either because they’re scared of you or truly believe you know best. Or, because most of us are too embarrassed to ask for help.
A while ago, I got a text from a two-time sitting president who had been nominated by a bunch of people for a job. He sent me his materials and I thought: WACKADOODLE! In what universe are you the right person for this position? Nothing you’ve written would make anyone think you were anything other than nutso. It’s possible I told him his cover letter sucked.
So we talked. An hour in, I was saying, “Holy moly! You are the ideal person for this job. But none of what you just told me appears anywhere in your letter or CV.” He kept talking and I kept yelping, “Write that down!”
A week later, I got updated materials. If this president were a student, he would have gotten an A+++. When we talked, he said, “That was hard.” Yes, grasshopper.
A couple of months ago, there was a piece in The Washington Post titled “These editors’ notes are poison. I learned from every drop.” It’s by a novelist who had been edited by Star Lawrence, a giant of the industry. I loved it and wasn’t surprised when a friend forwarded it to me.
Except I’d forgotten that I’d edited this friend’s last book (his have outsold mine by a couple of orders of magnitude) until I came to this sentence in his email: “Those edits by Lawrence caused me to immediately think of the editorial comments you so graciously offered to me. BORING!!! (my favorite!).”
Um, right. My style of feedback is not for the faint of heart or fragile of ego.
In this issue, while you recover from tryptophan or Tofurky hangovers, we offer some presidents reflecting on their journeys, and also, in the final piece, what it felt like to be edited by me, straight from the victim president himself.
